


off the beaten path

by strawberriez8800



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Series 2 Episode 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25804039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriez8800/pseuds/strawberriez8800
Summary: Thomas is waiting for someone; May is not so conceited as to assume it is her, yet when she takes the seat beside him and orders herself a drink, with the way he looks at her, it would be asinine to conclude the case is anything else.For the Peaky Blinders Rare-pair Bingo Challenge 2020
Relationships: May Carleton/Tommy Shelby
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Peaky Blinders Rare Pair Bingo 2020





	off the beaten path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boundinshallows (museme87)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museme87/gifts).



> Thanks for introducing and getting me on the Tommy/May ship. Bingo prompt 'Anonymous Sex.' My first Tommy/May.
> 
> It's rated G because, well, it's a prelude to the actual sex, ha. Canon-divergence of 2x03, the horse auction scene. 
> 
> Note: May's late husband is named Edward in this story, as his name is not canon-established.

The man enters the auction amidst a bid, a cohort in tow, and settles on the balcony across from May. His entrance shifts her focus from the auctioneer and the mare in question, and she feels a spark of annoyance at the interruption.

“Why do people come late to these things?” May asks, though she’s not really wondering.

It’s because they know what they want, Papa tells her.

The man certainly looks like he knows what he wants—the firm set of his jaw, the unwavering stare that seems to pin still everything in its sight. There’s no hesitation in the way he carries himself, only assurance.

For all she knows, his air is but a show; it’s remarkable, nonetheless, because a man like him ought to feel akin to a fish out of water, but rather than cower away he appears to embrace his differences.

(In another time May might be embarrassed at her scrutiny of a fleeting unknown. Not today.)

The man bids for the next mare, and for one inexplicable reason or another, May decides—yes, she’s going to take this away from him. She urges Papa to bid for the filly, even agrees to split the cost from the Spring fund.

All because she wants to rile up a stranger.

A beautiful stranger, yet a stranger all the same.

The stakes rise. Their eyes meet, and she feels a stir in her stomach at the contact.

He wins the filly, in the end.

It ought to feel like a loss to May, yet it doesn’t, because it’s a price she pays for his name.

“Thomas Shelby,” he says to the crowd with an easy confidence that draws her gaze to him once more.

This time he gives her a little more than a glance as an acknowledgement, before he walks out of the hall.

* * *

Papa has left for a meeting with the estate advisor, leaving May to her devices after the auction concludes. She finds Thomas at the bar next to the hall, alone this time, sipping on a glass of gin.

He’s waiting for someone, certainly; May is not so conceited as to assume it is her, yet when she takes the seat beside him and orders herself a drink, with the way he looks at her, it would be asinine to conclude the case is anything else.

The truth is, whilst she knows why she’s here, the matter of whether she ought to be is up in the air; what would Edward say, knowing she’s seeking out a man she knows nothing about except his name?

(Edward would want her to be happy, she knows. Yet...)

“Thomas, was it?” she says, cripplingly aware of the familiarity she is imposing, though she suspects he won’t mind.

It seems he doesn’t. “We were both there,” Thomas says, “and from what I’ve inferred, it’s unlikely you’d forget my name.” The words roll off his tongue, nonchalant yet vigilant, coloured by a lilt she can’t quite place.

She’s been rather transfixed on how he said those words that it takes her a moment to register _what_ he said. “Under a normal circumstance,” she begins, “I’d take offence and say you’re rather presumptuous, but today I see no need for such reticence.”

“Is this not a normal circumstance?”

“Goodness, no.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Is it for you?”

“That depends on who you ask,” Thomas says. “Miss...?”

“May Carleton. And I’d forget the formalities if I were you. There’s no room for a thing like that for what we want, is there?”

“What we want?” Thomas asks, but the smirk that tugs at his lips renders his question redundant.

“Yes.”

“You did mean it then, eh. No reticence and all that.”

May finishes her drink and rises from the stool. “If there’s one thing you ought to know about me, it's that I don’t have time for anything less than candour.”

“I like that, I do.” He appraises her once more with sky-eyes that cut through all that hinders until there’s nothing left to parse.

“So, will you come with me, Thomas?”

He sets down his empty glass and follows her out the door.


End file.
